


the rarest of pleas

by riverbed



Series: to circle back around [2]
Category: Blackbird - Harrower, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cuddling, Dialogue, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Sexual Abuse, but it's bittersweet, emotional exhaustion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6349363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverbed/pseuds/riverbed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so there's a fork in the road to recovery. alex can handle that. john's a constant, the first person he'd ever been able to trust. he'll probably be the last.</p><p>written, by request, as a follow-up drabble to <i>to circle back around.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	the rarest of pleas

**Author's Note:**

> i got a lot of really deeply meaningful, positive feedback on [to circle back around](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6319915) (thank you guys! that meant so much to me!) and there was a surprising amount of interest expressed in a continuation. i wasn't really sure what more there was to be said, but i did write this, almost to give myself a little more closure. i'm posting it as a separate work because it really feels more appropriate; the other one absolutely stands on its own for me. this is just for anyone who may want a little more.
> 
> the warnings here are extremely precautionary, but the story does deal with those topics. additionally, this will not really make any sense if you haven't read the above-mentioned fic. so it's kind of a catch-22; this one, i imagine, is a lot less triggering than the other (it was certainly a lot less traumatic to write), but it's really a direct epilogue. so. use your best judgement, and be cautious.
> 
> [_whatever would the others think? that you're human, like the rest of us? weak?_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vfI0aCCHug)

When Alex comes in John is at the kitchen table, two well-creased publications spread out beside his laptop. He flips back and forth in one of them, lips pursed, trying to word something right. “Hi,” he says. Hamilton doesn’t say anything, goes straight for his bedroom.

And… that’s unusual. Alexander loves to talk, it’s basically his favorite thing to do; he’d normally volunteer every detail John never wanted to know about his day. John considers for a moment that he’s just being his weird self, but he honestly cannot remember a time Alexander hadn’t been eager to say hello to him, so out of worry he gets up and goes down the hall.

The door is cracked, so he pushes his way in. Alex’s shirt is on the floor, his belt unbuckled but still in his jeans. He’s rifling through his dresser, presumably for a highly specific pair of boxers. John just watches him. He knows Alex knows he’s there but he does sense that his silence is deliberate. He won’t ask. “I put cilantro _in_ the taco seasoning,” he says, and he catches the little smile that crosses Alexander’s lips. “Made it all from scratch.”

“The house smells amazing,” Alex says after a moment, plugging in his phone to charge at his desk. “Thank you.” But it’s too quiet, too distracted. He looks over at John, realizes he isn’t leaving, sighs at him. Pushes his jeans down and leaves them on the carpet as he heads to the bathroom.

John follows. “You’re pretty obvious, you know.” Alexander starts running a shower. The bathroom is tiny and badly-ventilated and immediately steams up, even with the door open. John’s just moved doorways; he adopts the same position he’d had before, leaning on the frame.

Alex steps into the tub without taking his underwear off and yanks the curtain back to put a wall between them. All right. That kind of night. John regrets pushing even that little bit.

After a moment of quiet except for water pitter-pattering on the bathtub floor, Alex says, “Just, give me a minute. I’ll tell you everything, if you want, but I need some time.” John is surprised at that. Something in Alexander’s tone sounds… wavering. Unsure. It’s too much. Fills John with dread. He nods, even though Alex can’t see him. He leaves.

*

It’s a long time before Alex turns the shower off, much longer before he emerges from his room. When he does he shoves his iPad in John’s face wordlessly. A headline in tacky, bold Cambria fills the screen, **_STARTUP NYC FIRM CONSULTS FOR JPMORGAN ON ACQUISITION DEAL,_** and below it there’s a photo. Of a group of men, powerful-looking men, standing around a table and smiling. Of… no.

“Recognize anybody?” Alex probes. John just gapes back and forth between him and the screen. Of course he recognizes. Alex had shown him photos, the portrait on his business cards. A couple he’d taken himself, whip-smart even as a kid. A mugshot that he’d had for some reason. He’d sat Alex down a couple years back and forced him to delete it all from his laptop. Knowing what Washington did, John feels like he’s seen more of him than any decent human being should have to endure. He can only imagine how Alex feels.

“Holy shit,” John says, and he kind of reaches out, measures the distance between himself and the screen, as if making sure what he’s seeing is real. His eye catches on a bit of the article text, _headquartered near Murray Hill,_ and every neuron that’s supposed to be firing to his brain stops short. He looks at Alex, his eyes wide. “What did you do?” It’s not an accusation; he just can’t fathom. He can’t even imagine. What. _Alex…_

“Talked to him. Kind of threatened him.” Alex sets the tablet on the table, shakes his head as if he’s trying to resettle everything rattling around in it. “Nothing physical. Nothing specific. Just planted a seed, put a little fear in him.”

John huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Even if he wanted to report you, what would he say? ‘The kid I molested showed up at my workplace and threatened to ruin me?’ How’d he get hired at another law firm, anyway?”

Alex points to another spot in the article. “Changed his name. How simple, right? God, that pisses me off. It’s like he got a clean slate while I’ve had to live with his shit hanging over my head.”

John nods, because he gets it but he can’t really articulate what he wants Alex to know. Alex bangs around the kitchen, fixes two servings of soft-shell tacos with too much sour cream. Just the way God intended tacos to be. He sets one plate down in front of John and they eat, pretty much in silence. The iPad sits between them and its screen goes dark after a few minutes without use, but the glow seems to linger; the doom seems to linger. Alexander seems to be in his own world, picking at his shredded lettuce.

John practically throws the dishes in the sink. When he glances back into the dining nook Alex is just staring at the wood grain on the table where his plate had been. John brings him some water and Alex drinks it all without looking up. John goes back and fills the glass again and Alex sips it slower this time, absentmindedly. John rests his hip against the side of the table. “Do you need to talk about it?” he asks, not really sure whether he hopes for an affirmative. He never knows what to say. Alex has never had trouble talking to him, and he feels all right about that, but he wishes he had more to offer his friend in terms of empathy or comfort.

Alex runs a hand through his hair, tugs at the ends. “Probably,” he says. “I went to group, but I couldn’t really talk tonight. I got all freaked out, thought maybe they would - I don’t know, it’s irrational. Call the cops or have me committed or something. So I didn’t say anything, just listened.” He rubs his eyes. “It helped, a little. I just needed more from it.”

“It’s weird,” Alex continues. “It feels like… kind of like this is exactly what I had to do? Like I feel… different. Lighter. The chance came up and I just took it and God, it was stupid, but God it felt good.” He grins sheepishly up at John. “You probably think I’m fucking crazy.”

John shakes his head fondly. “I _know_ you’re fucking crazy. When has that ever colored my opinion of you?” He sees Alex visibly relax; sees his shoulders work. He leans heavier on the table, lowers his voice a notch. “Come on. I bought strawberry ice cream, too. I’ll put Hershey’s on it for you. We can watch The Lion King.” He tugs up on the shoulder of Alex’s old, thin t-shirt. Sees his eyes sort of flash.

“You gonna let me sing along without complaining?”

*

“So, what you gonna do?” It’s late, past both their bedtimes, if John’s honest. They’re in Alex’s room in the dark. The movie ended an hour ago and Alex has been laying on his front with his face in John’s shoulder since before _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_ anyway. It’s nice. Feels close, safe. The quiet is comfortable. John feels like after midnight the apartment becomes their own secret world, someplace impenetrable unless you’re already there. It’s an immature fantasy but one he likes. “Like, what happens now?”

Alex turns onto his side to prop himself up on his elbow. “I don’t know. I mean, I have ideas. My head’s kind of buzzing with them, honestly. But it’s tiring. Thinking about spending more time on him. I don’t want to obsess over this.”

John smiles in spite of himself. He thinks about what Alex can do, has done, with a pen in his hand. Or, you know, social media access. Suddenly it’s all very high-stakes, and he lets the part of him that’s a mean person revel in the idea of Alex making it impossible for someone to escape their fuckups. The thought only gets sweeter when he really considers the character of the man who’d be on the receiving end of such a thorough beating.

Alex yawns, curls back up against him. “Do you want me to…” John trails off. He’s not sure how to ask. He doesn’t want Alex to think he assumes he’s weak. Especially because he thinks Alex is probably the strongest person he knows.

Alex groans, shifts. “You should stay,” he mumbles. John doesn’t even bother pulling the blankets over them. The room is plenty warm.

Alex hasn’t cried all night. John tries hard to follow the example as he feels Alex’s weight settle on him but he falls asleep with his eyes wet.


End file.
